Thursday, May 17, 2007
Chemo Stockholm Syndrome
I'm feeling scared. Chemo is ending next week and all I can think about is that there will be nothing fighting the cancer except my immune system. There's no way I want to continue chemo, but at the same time I'm now feeling dependant on it to keep the cancer at bay.
Me and Patty Hearst. Now I know how she felt.
All the CT scans look good, everything has gone as well as can be expected, but I still feel like somehow once chemo is done, all hell will break loose. Partly it's because you can't see cancer. It's not going to give me a rash or a stuffy nose if it comes back. It will just lurk. I hate lurkers.
I had a nightmare last night that was long and involved, but ended with me finding people that had been chemically treated and put into mason jars. I opened a door and all of the deformed looking bodies in jars looked at me with so much fear in their eyes. My cousin pointed out that this dream was about rescue. I wanted to rescue these people, but they had been damaged beyond rescue. Maybe that's how I'm feeling about myself right now. What if I'm damaged beyond rescue?
I'm going to have to learn to live with this fear, I know that. Now that all my medical treatment is coming to an end, I'm starting to feel more deeply all the emotions that have been in denial. I've just been pushing through, trying to make it through surgery, through chemo. Now that it's ending I have to face the stuff I've been aware of but not really feeling. Haven't had the space to deal physically and mentally all at once. I guess it's time to face these demons.
Well, I've made it this far, so bring it on. I'll make it, I know I will.